Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Tales of an Honest Toddler

Many
of you know that I love babies, but I have to say that I really love
toddlers.There’s something about
watching the facial expression of someone who is desperately trying to develop
their verbal skills.And this past
year, I was introduced to Honest Toddler.I follow Honest Toddler on the Twitter, and he keeps me laughing almost
every day of the week.Who is this
toddler?Well, I don’t really know, but his Twitter profiles states that he’s not potty trained, and he’s not trying.Here are a few of his recent thoughts and
concerns…

Naptime. Daddy just tried to put me in my bed and walk away. LOL. Skipped like 28 steps! Start over. From the top.

As if Santa cares whether I finish this sandwich or not. The man is swamped. He's not watching me eat.

My love don't cost a thing but if it did it'd probably be like four cookies and a bike.

There's so much pressure to have a favorite color. Wish people would stop asking. #life

I feel like when I share it sends the wrong message to my friends. Yes, I want them to be happy, but not happier than me.

Hearing two people argue over who has to come get you in the morning is not a good way to build your child's self esteem. smh

But no, take your time. Hash it out. I'll just lay here and brainstorm ways to rebuild my self-worth.

And my personal favorite…she's on Pinterest again.
Looking at pictures of dresses and wavy hair is more important than getting my
snack together.

But I'm also lucky enough to have my very own honest toddler. He's my nephew and his name is Micah. He's the third child, and we all know that no one is especially picky about their third child. At this point, he's just thankful to be alive. I don't think he has his own Twitter account but if he did, he would have tweeted this on a recent visit to Auntie's house...

Sure, I don't mind sleeping in the laundry room. I'm sure it's okay with DHS if I sleep in room with chemicals and no windows. SMH.

Labels

I love babies and my friends have lots of them. Someone once referred to me as the Super Nanny. The world doesn't need two Super Nannies so I became Big Nanny. I'm the wife of Lawnmower Man, the mother of two girls, the daughter of a preacher man, the oldest sister, Target shopper and a friend to those that can tolerate me singing hymns on long car trips. I'm also on staff at the big church on the corner where I organize the chaos of 400 preschoolers every Sunday morning.